Curiosity Killed the Fish
by Nocturnal Lane
Summary: "Suits, shirts, weapons… Are you all… maybe…" He gulped. No. Not this soon. Not his little girl-not his innocent and gullible daughter. She couldn't have; she was only eight! But-! (Father!Tsuna One-shot)


**Author's Notes**

I…honestly don't know where this came from. Hopefully you'll enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

**Disclaimer: I don't own KHR!**

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**"Curiosity Killed the Fish"**

The mafia don loosened his tie with some difficulty, considering that his movements were limited by the book he was holding and the child on his lap (he could swear she was getting taller by the hour). The mothers of the group had oh-so-conveniently left the children in their husbands' care (not that he minded), and the rest of the household agreed to _not _let the children play together, even with the presence and supervisions of all fathers (a harsh tug in his conscience reminded him that he still had to pay for the kitchen reparation; the last play-date had proved disastrous and resulted in the whole room blowing up sky-high).

"Tou-chan?" The little girl looked up (_ohgoodnesshereyesweresoadorable_) and stared at him, thoroughly confused by his sudden silence (_reallyhecouldgobbleherup_).

"Why do you always wear orange shirts? Isn't it boring?"

…_asked the girl who didn't want to take off her favourite dress for days. _Both he and her mother had to chase her around the house for that. Although, the thought of him being outrun (and outwitted) by an eight-year-old amused him (her mother not so much).

"Not only you," she continued, aware that she was losing his attention, "but Gokudera-ji-san, Yamamoto-ji-san, Chrome-ba-san, Sasagawa-ji-san, Hibari-ji-sama… They all wear the same ones over and over again." His heart thumped uncomfortably behind his ribcage. To say that he had a bad feeling about this was-

"And you always wear suits too. Why are you all always dressed so… so… formaline **[1]**?" He winced upon hearing her last word and corrected her. Shamal must've played with her during his last visit.

"Well, we wear them for work…" It wasn't a lie, really, they _did_ wear the suits and shirts for work, but it seemed that she was unsatisfied with this answer.

"But you're not working _now_. Besides, what _do _you do, tou-chan? You've never told me that. All the other children get to brag about their parents'…oc…occo…octo…octopuses **[2]**." The brief laugh that escaped his lips caused her to frown. At the same time, he felt guilt. Guilty that his child was _different _because of what he did for a living. He'd never want his only daughter to ever experience the pain of being an outcast.

"Well, umm… I… Gokudera-kun and Yamamoto-kun…"

"And why does Yamamoto-ji-san always carry a sword? We found dynamites in Gokudera-ji-san's pocket yesterday, and Hibari-ji-sama always brings his sticks with him… Suits, shirts, weapons… Are you all… maybe…" He gulped. No. Not this soon. Not his little girl-not his innocent and gullible daughter. She couldn't have; she was only eight! But… No one told her, right? No one was supposed to tell the children that—!

"…POWER RANGERS!?"

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**Extended Ending:**

Her father excused himself from the room, murmuring something about being thirsty and needing a drink (and, faintly, she could hear the words "too close"). As soon as the door clicked close, her lips formed a smirk.

"He fell for it! He fell for it _HARD!_ Told you that my plan'll work!" She couldn't resist doing a little victory dance, flinging the book to the other half of the room while jumping on the sofa in ecstasy. "You saw how he was flailing—paling even—trying to come up with an excuse!"

Other figures, each not much taller than the mahogany desk, emerged from behind the curtains, some laughing, some grinning, and one sullen.

"That was awesome! So, our dads are definitely in the mafia?" A boy with platinum blond hair let out a cheeky smile.

"Well, they're definitely doing something shady," she stopped bouncing in order to catch her breath before approaching the group, "Something they _really_ don't want us to know."

"So the weapons and explosives we found in the kitchen were-"

"Probably Zio Giannini's. He's really good at fixing stuffs, right? Who's to say he can't invent stuffs either?"

"M-M-My Papa!?" A plump—but not overly so—boy waved his hands in denial. "Papa's a scaredy-cat! He can't make things like.. like… _that_."

"But your papa's a genius! My tou-chan told me that. And he wasn't lying, I know when he does." What was it called again? Hyper…Hyper…_tuition?_ "Anyway, now that we have confirmed our scuspions—"

"Suspicions!" The platinum blond eagerly corrected.

"…that. What should we do first?" She asked, knowing full well what the answer would be. All pairs of eyes developed the same dangerous glint.

"BLACKMAIL!"

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**Extended, extended ending:**

A deafening "HIIIIIEEEEE!" screeched through the Vongola Manor the next morning. Innocent civilians tried to discreetly distance themselves from the mansion, fearing that the scream originated from an enemy being tortured. Men in suits and sunglasses immediately took action to secure the perimeters, fearing that there was a breach in the security. Maids went to their chambers to hide, fearing that the one of the guardians was in a foul mood.

But really, it was just one poor, poor Dame-Tsuna holding a crumpled letter in his hand. On it, the messy handwriting stated:

_We will inform the children of your octopusses unless you bring five bags of candies and deliver them to your front porch at eighteen hundred today. _

_Remember, the children's innocence are at steak._

_Sincerely,_

_The Nmemonis _**[3]**

**[1] **Formal

**[2] **Occupation

**[3] **Nemesis


End file.
